


The Jumper Dilemma

by the_realduck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Boys Being Boys, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, James is a loveable prat, Lily is pretty fly, M/M, Marauders' Era, Sirius and Remus are dorks in love, and Peter is ever longsuffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_realduck/pseuds/the_realduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius faces the problem of finding a way to keep Remus warm as our favorite boys spend their last Christmas at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jumper Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finereluctance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finereluctance/gifts).



> Thank you so much to my beta, croatoanmary, you are a lifesaver! I did a little tweaking as well after this was beta'd, so any mistakes are entirely my own fault. Happy Holidays everyone :)

It had been early October when Remus had told them.  
  
Over a particularly ingenuous prank-planning meeting, James had mentioned inviting the lot of them to his parents’ house for Christmas.  “Sirius will be there anyway, we might as well make it a group event.”  
  
“Not asking for my permission, Prongs?” Sirius teased as James flipped him two fingers.  
  
“Brilliant!” piped up Peter.  
  
“I don’t think that will work.” Remus said quietly.  
  
Three heads swiveled his way, each with a confused look upon their faces.  
  
“What’s wrong Moony, will your parents say no?  I can get my mum to talk to them if you like, she’s very persuasive-” James was silenced by a shake of Remus’ head.  He was looking down, not making eye contact and fiddling with his quill, which was Sirius’ first clue that something was wrong.  Remus constantly lectured him on the merits of eye contact, so for him to be breaking his own rule was very much an anomaly.  A familiar sinking feeling started in the pit of his stomach.  
  
“It’s the full, isn’t it, Remus?”  
  
The look he got in response answered his question.   
  
Remus sighed. “It’s Christmas Eve.”  
  
Sirius glanced at James, who sent a small nod his way.  
  
“Alright, I’ll just tell mum that we’ll be staying here.” James said determinedly. “She won’t mind, it’s our last year and all.”  
  
Peter nodded. “Prongs, with your mum’s help, I think I’ll be able to convince mine as well.”  
  
Remus shook his head, “You know you don’t have to do that, Christmas is a time to be with family-”  
  
“Which is exactly why we’ll be staying here.” Sirius said fiercely, looking right at Remus as his gaze snapped up to meet his eyes.   
  
There was silence as they stared, Sirius trying to convey as much as possible that he wasn’t going anywhere.  
Remus smiled. “Well, I suppose if you’ve decided to stay, there is little I can do to convince you otherwise.”  
  
***  
  
Winter came in a rush, white flurries raining down on the castle and bitter wind whipping at any exposed extremities.  An influx of warming charms had bloomed around the castle, along with the production of hot tea and cocoa.  
  
Sirius had never truly enjoyed winter; the bitter cold reminded him too much of the perpetual chill that haunted Grimmauld Place, and  
its eerie silences that seemed to echo over snow-covered fields allowed for the loudness of his thoughts to threaten to overwhelm him.  
  
There were very few redeeming qualities to the winter season as far as Sirius was concerned, winter pranks, snowball fights and mulled wine being the first three.  The third thing he loved was Christmas.  Given that he had hated the occasion as a child, with the endless parade of pureblood parties where everyone hated each other but pretended that they didn’t, the Christmases that he had been able to have at Hogwarts had completely made up for it.  This one posed a slight issue though, given that he had run away the year before, and really didn’t have a very large amount of galleons to his name.  
  
The very last thing he loved about the season, though, didn’t have very much to do with him.  It didn’t have anything at all to do with  
him really, because the last thing he loved about winter was jumpers. This was particularly puzzling to James (who had been privy to the list after the two had imbibed a little too much firewhisky one summer night), because Sirius himself hated the thought of wearing jumpers. They were either too itchy or too hot or too bulky, none of which was a positive thing.  
  
No, the reason Sirius loved jumpers was because of one resident werewolf who practically lived in them throughout the winter months.  Where they were too itchy for Sirius, Moony’s were always soft.  The image of tall, gangly Remus in a gigantic lump of a sweater was simply too much, and their warmth was completely necessary in his case, because Remus was perpetually cold, even in the warmer seasons.  
  
As it happened, the source of his last reason was sat across from Sirius in the library.  The two were meant to be studying for a charms exam, but Sirius kept getting distracted by the way Remus’ thin wrists would peek out of the sleeves of his wooly green jumper.  Every so often, goosebumps would spread across his skin, and the sight of it made Sirius frown a bit to himself.  Even with the large (and quite atrocious, really) sweater, Remus was still cold and this distressed Sirius greatly.  Remus should be able to be warm all of the time, and yet, he mused, this jumper was beginning to look the slightest bit threadbare.  
  
That was no good.  
  
Something had to be done about it, Sirius decided.  Remus was not nearly satisfactorily lumpy and that therein was a damper to the entire Christmas season.  There simply could not be a Moony that was all goosepimply.  It was completely unacceptable.  
  
But what exactly was he to do?  
  
His musing was interrupted by a “Sirius?” from across the table.  
  
He blinked. “Yeah, Moony?”  
  
“What on earth were you thinking about? You were completely zoned out; I’ve called your name three times!” Remus said, one  
eyebrow quirked and a small smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.  
  
“I wasn’t zoned out!” Sirius protested. “A Black doesn’t ‘zone out.’”  
  
“Good thing you aren’t a Black anymore then, remember?” Remus gave him a small smile.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes, secretly glad that he’d gotten to the point that he could joke about his disownment. “Fucking hilarious.”  
  
Remus gave a quiet chuckle before smirking back, “I do try.”  
  
“Clearly not hard enough,” Sirius said dramatically, making a point of sighing and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry I’ve got to be the one to tell you this Moony, but you are very dull. Dull dull _dull_. A dull-wolf, if you will.”  
  
“And yet here you are, in the library with the dull-wolf.” Remus replied dryly, eyes already back on his textbook.  
  
“Yes, well, someone had to try and liven you up a little. My very presence is inspirational, I’ll have you know.”  
  
“Charming, Mr. Not-Black. Very charming.”  
  
***  
  
Later that night as he lay in his bed, Peter’s snores a quiet constant in the background, Sirius once again thought of the issue of the worn out jumpers.  He tossed around the idea of buying Remus a new jumper altogether, but in all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he could scrape enough galleons together to afford one (especially with the only shopping area being Hogsmeade).  
  
Sirius knew Remus would never expect anything extravagant.  In fact, every year he never failed to lose the surprised expression that came unbidden to his face whenever one of them presented him with a gift.  So although Sirius did realize that a present wasn’t completely necessary - especially considering the circumstances - the thought of not putting that pleased look on Remus’ face sent a sick curl of disappointment through him.  
  
Perhaps a homemade gift then.  
  
But who to ask?  Peter wasn’t exactly the most adept at gift giving on the best of days, and although Remus was very thoughtful, it would defeat the purpose to ask him (to try and be sneaky about it would also fail, Sirius was sure - Remus had a way of being terrifyingly all-knowing).  James was completely out of the question; the plethora of ridiculous gifts and even worse poetry he had given Lily over the years was proof of his failures.  
  
Wait.  
  
Lily Evans!  Sirius grinned into the darkness.  Of course Lily would have the answer for him, he should have thought of it _sooner_.  She  
was both observant and clever, with the bonus point of being practically an honorary marauder herself with as much time as she spent around them these days - of course, some of that time was spent having marathon snog-fests with James, but what could he expect with all the pent up sexual tension between the two.  
  
Sirius rolled over and hugged his pillow to his chest. Tomorrow he would talk to Lily and she would help solve his problem, he was sure of it.  
  
***  
  
“You want me to what?”  
  
Lily was staring at him a little incredulously.   Sirius had purposely awoken early to catch her at breakfast, as he knew she liked to take her tea before the Great Hall got too busy.  He had cornered her and tried to explain his dilemma as best he could; clearly not well enough though, because she sat next to him still looking confused.  
  
He huffed. “I need your help to make Remus a Christmas gift.”  
  
“Yes I got that.” Lily nodded, “But why do you need to _make_ him something?”  
  
“Because I can’t exactly afford something especially nice, and James’ mum said that handmade things were extra special because they come from the heart.” As Lily’s eyebrows rose slightly higher, he shrugged pointedly. “Or some rot like that, you know.”  
  
“Quite.” Lily said, before nodding again and acquiring a determined look. “Alright then.  What do you want to make him?”  
  
“I...I don’t actually know.” Sirius winced slightly.  “I was hoping you might be able to help with that.”  
  
Lily took a thoughtful sip of her tea before answering. “Well you must have some sort of idea. Why don’t you narrow the general theme down a little bit more and we’ll go from there?”  
  
Nodding, Sirius stared into his porridge.  Although the thought of telling Lily about his slight Remus-and-jumper obsession was a bit embarrassing, it would (probably) be worth it to have her advice.  He took a deep breath. “Actually, I did have kind of an idea.  I wanted to make something that would help keep Remus warm.  All of his jumpers are beginning to look a bit breezy, and I don’t want him to get cold, especially after...his, erm, furry little problem time, y’know.”  Sirius didn’t look up once during his short explanation, but after a few moments of silence, he chanced a glance over to find Lily looking at him with a strange expression.  
  
“What?” he asked a bit defensively.  
  
She smiled with an odd quirk at her lips, and then shook her head.  “Nothing.”  Lily stirred her tea for a few moments before snapping  
her fingers. “What about a scarf?”  
  
“A scarf?”  
  
“Yeah!” Lily grinned. “Yeah, a scarf is a great idea. It’s easy enough to learn, a little time consuming, sure, but I think it’s great! I think I might actually have some knitting supplies in my trunk...”  
  
As Lily outlined the plan for teaching Sirius the basics of knitting, an image of Remus in a long, oversized scarf came to his mind.  
  
A smile bloomed on his face.  That image was going to be worth dealing with these ‘needles’ or whatever they were called.  
  
***   
  
The weeks that led up to Christmas were filled intermittently with studying (or at least, watching Remus and Peter study while he and James played Exploding Snap), listening to James’ increasingly panicked tirades about what to get Lily (“She’s actually _dating_ me now, Sirius, _oh Merlin_ , oh hell, what do I do? _SHE COULD BREAK UP WITH ME_!”), and trying to figure out enough of the art of knitting to make a presentable scarf for Remus.  
  
Sirius had ended up going to Lily quite often to pathetically moan about his many tragic attempts at knitting before he finally got the hang of it.  He had gone to her so many times, in fact, that James had mock-accused him of trying to lure away his fair Lily, an accusation that sparked a magically enhanced pillow fight, in which James had wrapped his tie around his head and declared Peter to be his second, should he fall in the battle.  The epic fight had raged on until at last Remus returned from his prefect rounds, at which point Sirius leapt into his arms, and declared dramatically, “The fearsome Moony will lead me to victory!” before they both collapsed in a heap on the floor.  James had crowed victoriously in the background, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to care as he lay tangled with Remus, who was laughing into his hair.  
  
Finally, the night before Christmas arrived, and as the four of them trudged to the Shrieking Shack, Sirius looked over to see Remus laughing at something Peter had said, snowflakes caught in his hair and eyelashes, cheeks red from the cold.  That picture, Sirius decided right there in the snowy forest, was an image he could see every day and not get tired of, regardless of his dislike of winter.  
  
***  
  
Pale sunlight filtered in through the dusty windows of the shack, as Sirius, Peter and James tiptoed around, trying not to wake Remus.  Thanks to Padfoot and Prongs, Remus had avoided severely injuring himself, something that Sirius was profoundly grateful for.  As James and Peter prepared to go nab some Christmas breakfast for all of them, Sirius yawned and surreptitiously glanced to his robe, which lay in a heap on the chair.  Hidden in one of its pockets was the scarf, and suddenly, Sirius was acutely aware of every small mistake he had made while knitting it.  
  
“You’ll be alright here with Moony then, Padfoot?” James’ voice interrupted Sirius’ quiet panicking.  
  
“Oh yeah.” Sirius replied, “Make sure to bring back some tea with honey, you know he likes that after the full.”  
James and Peter exchanged knowing looks before they headed down the stairs.  “I won’t forget!” called James cheerfully.  As Peter’s footsteps echoed down the stairs, James popped his head around the corner, and whispered loudly, “Good luck with the scarf, mate!” and with a wink, he was gone.  
  
“What scarf?” came muzzily from behind him.  
  
 _Oh fuck_ , thought Sirius desperately, and then turned to face Remus, who was sitting up, propped up on a pillow and rubbing his eyes sleepily.  
  
Werewolves should not be allowed to look adorable, Sirius decided.  “How are you feeling, Moony?”   
  
Remus wrinkled his nose. “Sore. Alive though, which is always a good sign.”  
  
  
“I should hope so.” Sirius started to gather some bandages for the worst of the scratches scattered over Remus’ torso.  There was less than the month before, and the rest of his injuries were nothing that a simple healing charm couldn’t fix.  Luckily, Sirius had mastered basic healing charms years ago, specifically for the full moons.  
  
He sat on the narrow bed, the mattress creaking ominously beneath him. He gently picked up Remus’ left wrist, and began to murmur charms under his breath.  Sirius worked slowly and methodically, working his way across the werewolf’s body; the two of them were quiet, just the sound of whispered spells easing into the morning air that filled the room.   
  
The last scrape left to heal was one that curled over Remus’ collarbone.  Sirius cleared his throat a bit nervously, before he softly tilted Remus’ jaw a bit to the side, muttering the final words.  Sirius’ hands lingered for a few moments, only lowering when he saw the other boy’s throat flex in a swallow.  
  
The silence suddenly seemed oppressive as Sirius dropped his hands to his knees, fingers clenching in the soft blanket.  
  
“What scarf was Prongs talking about, Sirius?” the words burst from Remus, curiosity coloring his voice.  
  
Oh Merlin, of course he would fixate on that.  Sirius groaned internally, cursing James and his stupid fucking brain.   
  
“Well.” Sirius began. “It’s rather silly, really.”  
  
Remus just stared at him, raising one eyebrow.  
  
Huffing in defeat, Sirius gave up and summoned the scarf from his coat pocket; the long material flew toward them and then crumpled in a heap on the bed.  Scarred fingers reached out to grasp the knitted wool, and Sirius absolutely refused to look up to see his reaction.   
  
When no words came in response to the gift, Sirius thought perhaps he better clarify a bit.  After all, he did just sort of dump the thing  
in Moony’s lap.  
  
“I, uh.” He was NOT going to look up. “I made you it.  For Christmas. Well of course for Christmas, but you see I noticed that you looked cold, and I couldn’t afford a jumper, but I thought a scarf might do just as well; and then once I got the hang of it I couldn’t stop, and I thought maybe the longer the better, so…” He finally managed to clap his lips together, effectively cutting off his  
embarrassed babbling.  Oh sweet Circe, how did the thought of actually _giving_ the present to Remus never cross his mind?  
  
Fuck. He was going to kill James. And Peter. And Lily. And perhaps memory charm Remus, just for good measure.  
  
The silence was killing Sirius at this point, so after a short pep talk (which consisted mostly of, “ _Just look up, you can do it, fucking eye contact, eye contact is good_.”), he took a deep breath and lifted his eyes.  
  
Remus was clutching the scarf to him, fingers running over the slightly uneven stitching.  
  
Too impatient to wait much longer for a reply, Sirius let out an irritated, “Well?”  
  
Eye contact _finally_ was made, and Sirius was a little taken aback by the look in Remus’ eyes. “You made me a scarf?” he said faintly, fingers still tracing an absent pattern.  
  
“Er – yes.”  
  
“You knitted me a scarf?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Because I looked cold?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“You actually _handmade_ me a scarf with your _own two hands_ because I looked a bit _chilled_?”  
  
“Bloody yes alright! Merlin’s bollocks Moony, if you don’t like it you don’t have to wear it-“  
  
Remus was holding his hands.  No that wasn’t quite right; Remus gripped his hands hard, leaned forward and said fiercely, “I like it, Sirius. It’s fucking brilliant, oh my _god_ , you made me a scarf, you daft dog, of _course_ I like it.”  
  
Suddenly understanding the merits of intense eye contact, all Sirius could think to say, was “Oh. Good then.” A slow smile spread across Remus’ face, and without warning, the two of them started laughing and laughing.  Relief and happiness suffused through him; and as he grinned, he murmured, “Happy Christmas then.”  
  
The other boy’s smile turned a bit wicked as his eyes lit up, cheeks flushed red.  “I know of a way to make it happier.” said Remus, before he threaded his fingers through Sirius’ hair.  
  
As soft lips pressed against his, Sirius had to agree that he was indeed much happier already.  
  
(He was most definitely sending Lily a thank-you card. Not James though, the great prat.)


End file.
